


We Will be Your SHIELD

by Thorpendipity



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Heavily based on Marvel Ultimate Spider-Man, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad & Spiderson, Just the original 6 Avengers, No Kidnappings in this Fic, Not comics or MCU based after Avengers (2012), Orphan Peter Parker, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Spider-Man joins SHIELD, Venom isn't an alien in this one, Well there is one but it's harmless, X-men mentioned, Young Peter Parker, but just for a minute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23012041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorpendipity/pseuds/Thorpendipity
Summary: SHIELD has known Spider-Man's secret identity almost from the start. (They are a superspy organization after all)  But they're not the only ones to put together that Spider-Man appeared a few weeks after some experimental spiders got loose in OSCORP's labs.Norman Osborn needs to replicate Spider-Man's abilities in order to create VENOM, a serum to heighten physical abilities, and he'll do whatever it takes to get him back in OSCORP's labs.So, when Spider-Man finds himself facing enemies he can't defeat, and his Aunt May is killed because of it, he's desperate for the help an organization like SHIELD could provide.  What he doesn't count on is Tony Stark taking an interest in SHIELD's newest recruit.OrThe Avengers find out that SHIELD's newest recruit is literally 14 and decide that they aren't going to let that stand.  Lots of miscommunication and fluff.
Relationships: Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & SHIELD, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 51
Kudos: 477





	1. Chapter 1

The number of people who were allowed into his private workshop could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

Rhodey, who was currently at the Pentagon, Pepper, who was in California after their latest break-up, and Bruce, who followed an appallingly healthy sleeping schedule and was asleep before ten every night. So, when the lab's door slid open at nearly three in the morning, there was really only one other person it could be.

“You know, Ms. Romanoff, this workshop is off limits," Tony called. He didn't bother looking away from the holographic gauntlet in front of him. He had recently created several programs specifically designed with Natasha in mind. Good to know she still managed to get in. "Dum-E gets nervous around strangers, and I really don’t need him more trigger happy. It’s been 5 days since the last incident, and I’d like to keep that streak going.”

There was a reproachful beep from the charging station, but Tony ignored it.

“I need a favor.”

Oh, thank god. It actually was her. That would have been embarrassing, otherwise. He really needed to figure out how she was stopping JARVIS from warning him she was coming.

“And you think I’m your best bet?" Tony kept his tone light, fingers flying over the keyboard as he made a few corrections. "You're probably right, but consider me flattered.”

“Fury is going to give you a call. I need you to take it.” 

Tony finally spun around to face her. Natasha looked down at him, the sharp lines of her uniform matching the grim line of her mouth. He made a point of not knowing what she got up to when she wasn't needed for team exercises. He could tell he didn't want to know about this either.

“It’s funny you should ask that, Ms. Romanoff, because I know that you know that I like to keep my super-spy interactions to a minimum.” He looked pointedly at her and clicked his fingers. The holographic gauntlet zipped around to wrap itself around his wrist, stripped of its outer plating and displaying the intricate structures inside.

“I’m aware of your feelings towards Director Fury.” 

“Glad we’re on the same page. So, why should I?”

Natasha shifted slightly, tilting her head. “It’s classified.”

“Of course it is.” He spun in his chair, crumpling up the model and sending the holographic scrap sailing perfectly through the hoop as he turned back to his projections.

“Tony.” 

Against his will, his hands stilled and he turned back. Her face was as impassive as ever, but her eyes glinted. Tony stared for a long moment. He had never dared to imagine what it would look like if Natasha Romanoff got upset, and it was honestly as disconcerting as he'd imagined.

“All right,” Tony murmured.

Instantly the tension drained from her shoulders. Despite the shrewd look he was giving her, her lips quirked into an almost smile. 

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." He could hear the slight teasing in her tone. "That will be all."

Without a sound she turned and left the lab just as quickly as she had come.

\----------

“Sir, Director Fury is on the line for you.” Jarvis announced. 

Tony blinked and straightened up from the helmet he was rewiring. Fury? He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to require speaking to the man. At least not recently. 

"Sir, if I may, I believe Ms. Romanoff mentioned he would be calling." 

Comprehension sparked at that. He had forgotten about Natasha's unexpected visit. Well, not forgotten, but after a couple weeks it had taken a backseat.

“Huh, Romanoff was right.” He rubbed at his burning eyes as he checked the time. Damn, it was getting late.

“She usually is, Sir.” 

“All right, no need to get sassy.” Tony quipped, snagging a hand towel as he made his way to his main workstation. “Patch him through.”

Tony flopped into his chair as the display above the desk jumped to life. He didn’t recognize the room, but the man on screen was unmistakable. 

“Director Fury! A little spider told me you’d be calling.” Tony said conversationally, wiping his hands to get rid of the excess oil.

“Is that so,” Fury said tonelessly, his mouth twisted in its usual frown. Tony briefly wondered if he should have kept quiet about Natasha’s involvement, but quickly shrugged it off. She and Fury could hash it out between them.

“Yep,” He popped the ‘p’, and tossed the hand towel on the desk. “What can I do for you? Lose another Tesseract? Helicarrier falling from the sky?”

It was no secret that he wasn't on the best of terms with Fury. After "Natalie Rushman", and a certain "Tony Stark-Not Recommended", he'd lost a bit of trust in the man. After the Battle of New York their already strained relationship, if it could even be called that, had taken a nosedive. Sure, Fury had managed to get the Avengers off the ground, but it had nearly cost them their lives. Nightmares of flying through a wormhole with a missile on his back had become a nightly occurrence, and had only gotten worse with Pepper gone. 

Wisely, Fury didn't rise to the bait. 

“I need a suit.”

“I’m an Armani man myself,” Tony said smoothly, pushing away the flicker of apprehension in his chest. The only suits he had were the steadily growing arsenal of Iron Men, and there was no way he was giving one of those to Fury. “I’ll have Jarvis send you my tailor’s number.” 

“It’s not for me.” Fury sounded slightly amused, even though his face was as serious as ever. “SHIELD recently acquired a new member. One that, with the right training and tech, could be an asset to your team.”

Tony sat up straighter. “You think you’ve found a new Avenger? Please tell me it's a new archer, because Barton keeps stealing all my coffee creamer.”

“I have,” Fury drawled. “Though I’m afraid Barton will have to stay where he is for now. Are you aware of the vigilante based in Queens?”

It took a couple seconds to make the connection.

“You recruited Spider-Man?” Tony laughed, not trying to hide his incredulity. “The guy’s a disaster, and you want to make him an Avenger? Wasn’t he the one who derailed that metro train a couple weeks back?”

“Glad to see you understand why SHIELD decided to intervene.” For the first time, Fury’s voice had a little bite to it. “Spider-Man is a little rough around the edges, but he is strong and motivated. The only thing he needs is training and opportunity, and I intend to give it to him. Starting with a new suit.”

“Why do I have to make it?" Tony scowled a little at the implications. "I’m not giving advanced Stark tech to some guy who swings around New York in a hoodie. Even one of your SHIELD uniforms would be an upgrade for him.”

“Spider-Man’s unique physiology requires a uniform that we are unable to provide.”

“Let me guess . . . multiple eyes?” Tony wiggled his fingers in front of his face. 

Fury just raised an eyebrow. “More like sticky fingers.”

Tony dropped his hand, considering this. “I’ve always wondered how he climbs around. He needs some sort of adhesive gloves?”

“No, he does that on his own. The material just has to be thin enough to work.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard." Tony clapped his hands together. "Send the specs. I want to see what I’m working with.”

Immediately the Starkpad on the desk in front of him lit up as a file appeared. Tony spun in his chair and grabbed it, flicking the file up into the holograph field in the open workshop behind him. The blue specs coalesced into a slender figure he had only seen on the news.

Tony stood and began pacing in a circle around the image. Knee high converse met tattered jeans. A clearly custom-made hoodie with a white spider across the chest and back, and webbing stitched neatly across the shoulders, half mask and raised hood. Insect-like goggles held the hood in place and masked the rest of the face. The only protective gear besides the goggles, that Tony could see, were some knee pads and leather, half-fingered gloves. A few pieces of data appeared, as well as a list of specifications, but not nearly as much as he was expecting.

“That’s it? His measurements?” Tony complained, though he couldn’t deny the twitching sensation in his fingers at the new project. 

“Do you need more?” 

Tony rolled his eyes at Fury’s tone. His hands already hovered around the image, entering notes rapidly as they came to him.

“Well, a power analysis would be good. How about a name? Favorite color?” He had never been curious about Spider-Man’s identity before, but now it nagged at him. If the image was to scale, Spider-Man was a lot shorter than he imagined.

“Not today, Stark. If you can make a suit that fits these specifications, we’ll take care of the rest. As for the color,” Fury smirked at him, “SHIELD wears black.”

Fury ended the call, leaving Tony alone in the lab once again. He grumbled a little in his throat, rubbing at his face as he looked over the projection again. He supposed Spider-Man's getup had a certain sense of style, in a low-budget parkour artist kind of way. It was a pity that Fury's specifications wouldn't allow for any real fun. Especially when he knew almost nothing about the guy.

“Just what SHIELD needs, another black spider.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man's new look and presence on the Avenger's missions in New York doesn't go unnoticed. Tony starts to suspect that the vigilante from Queens is more than he appears, and decides to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy to see how many people have left kudos and comments! It was a way bigger response than I was expecting, and I'm very flattered. But anyways, on to the important stuff. I've had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you all like it.

The first time Spider-Man showed up to help the Avengers, Tony never even saw him.

Some private tech company had created a fleet of drones programmed to patrol the streets and alert the NYPD of suspicious activity. It had been the only thing on the news for weeks, and the trial run in New York was supposed to set the standard for increased security in every major city across the country.

Naturally, something had gone wrong and the drones were currently careening through midtown, smashing into buildings, exploding, and generally making a mess during rush hour. Tony hadn’t even wanted to get involved-the military could handle it- but the good Captain had insisted it would be a good training exercise, so here he was.

Tony flew in a pattern over his chunk of the city, sunlight glinting off his armor as he let his auto-targeting missiles pick off the drones zipping around the streets below. He could hear Clint humming some obnoxious pop song over the coms, punctuated by the ‘thwip’ of his bowstring as he picked off the drones in his own sector.

“Not that this isn’t fun,” Tony said, firing off the last wave of missiles, “But are we done? My sector’s clear.” He pulled up into a hover, waving at the people on the sidewalks below that had their cameras pointed towards him. That was something he loved about New Yorkers. Drones were flying rampant and they just continued with their day, only stopping to take pictures of their heroes as they took care of it.

“So’s mine.” Clint announced.

“Mine too.” Black Widow spoke up. “I see a couple heading towards the bridge. Cap, do you want to take those, or should I?”

“I’m still working on my sector,” Captain America said, sounding harried. Tony snickered as Jarvis pulled up a flight path for him.

“I’m on it, Cap. You take it easy, okay? Wouldn’t want you to fall and break your hip or something.” Tony peeled off towards the bridge, taking the time to weave through the buildings and give a little show for the people who were still on the streets below him.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Black Widow said, cutting off Roger's indignant reply. “Looks like SHIELD decided to send us a little help.”

“Help?” Tony repeated, coming to a stop and hovering over the clearly drone-free streets. It took a few seconds for his targeting system to lock onto the whirring and twitching lumps of white webbing that dotted the sides of buildings, informing him that the last of the drones were cocooned inside.

“Anyone got eyes on Spider-Man?” Tony asked, zooming upwards to get a better view. 

“Spider-Man?” Cap asked, bemused.

“You’ll know him when you see him, Cap. Sticks to walls, shoots webs, wears a custom-made SHIELD uniform made by yours truly.” Tony turned in a slow circle, searching for the suit that had been in his workshop until a few days ago.

“I’ve got eyes on him.” Black Widow said suddenly.

“How’s he look? Great, right? Fury said to make it all black, but his original spider decal wasn’t half bad.” He hadn’t been able to resist adding a little flair to the uniform. Fury was such a wet blanket.

“He’s passing through my sector,” She continued, ignoring him. “Looks like he’s heading out.” Tony took a second to wonder at the pleased tone in Natasha’s voice. He cleared his throat and tried to make his voice as sincere as possible.

“Romanoff, I just want to take this moment to say that I tried to convince Fury that the black spider gimmick was taken, but he didn’t listen. Try not to feel too insecure about it. I’m sure he’s not trying to replace you.”

“No you didn’t.” 

Tony grinned. “Okay, I didn’t. But come on, he looks good, right? Tell me he looks good.”

“Well, he works fast.” Hawkeye chimed in approvingly from his perch, saving Natasha from having to respond. Tony couldn’t disagree. It had taken less than thirty seconds for him to get there, and Spider-Man had managed to trap half a dozen drones and swing off in that time. 

None of the Avengers had been thrilled when Tony had informed them of their potential team mate. Except Natasha, who had been as coolly indifferent as ever. Spider-Man just wasn’t known to keep up with the big leagues. Luckily, it looked like Fury was planning on keeping him on the fringes for now. 

Still, there were half a dozen drones webbed up tight. Tony took one last look to make sure the webbing was going to hold, before flying off to pick up Clint from his position on top of one of the skyscrapers.

“Maybe Fury was right about him.” Tony mused.

\--------

The second time Spider-Man showed up to help the Avengers, Tony decided he took it back. Fury wasn’t right about Spider-Man. His webs were way too messy.

Tony thrashed around, but quickly gave up as the armor just got more tangled in the sticky webbing that glowed silver in the moonlight. Turns out New York could only manage to go a couple weeks without getting attacked by something. He didn’t really care who Doctor Doom was, but his tackily named “doombots” were seriously pissing him off.

He supposed he should be grateful for the layers of webbing that had broken his fall after he’d been blasted from the night sky. He’d smashed through two or three of the net-like webs before he’d come to a stop, suspended between two buildings a couple hundred feet in the air. Of course, if he’d had just a few more seconds, his stabilizers would have corrected it themselves, but it was too late for that.

And now he was stuck. Upside down. And he couldn’t call for help because the doombots were doing something to his coms. At least it was dark enough that people probably wouldn’t be able to see him from the street. He did not need pictures of this.

“Sir, you appear to be stuck.” Jarvis informed him helpfully.

“Yeah, no kidding J,” Tony retorted. “Think you can-“

The net of webbing abruptly shifted, and Tony froze. He really hoped it wasn’t tearing away from the walls, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to free himself from the webbing in time if he fell. 

He craned his neck to try and find the source of the disturbance. Only to find himself nose to nose with a pair of enormous white lenses. Tony flinched, cursing as he automatically activated his gauntlet.

“Woah, hey, Mr. Iron Man, sir. It’s just me.” The black shape protested, holding up his hands in a slightly childish display of innocence. Tony cursed again and deactivated the gauntlet. If he wasn’t so freaked out by his sudden appearance, Tony would have appreciated the fact that Spider-Man was standing upside down, nothing but the balls of his feet sticking to the supporting strand of the web.

“Little warning there, kid. You really need to work on your concept of personal space.” Tony snapped, not feeling very generous after the near heart attack and the headache that was steadily forming as all the blood rushed to his head.

“Oh, uh, right. I’m sorry Mr. Stark, I just wanted to make sure you were---incoming!” In a flash Spider-Man twisted and leaped away, using Tony’s chestplate as an impromptu springboard to launch himself at a doombot that was rocketing through the air towards them.

The doombot clearly wasn’t expecting to get fly-tackled midair. Spidey smashed into it, sending it careening downwards and leaping away to stick to the side of the building. The bot only fell for a few seconds before a web smacked onto its back, yanking it to a stop before it could crash into the car-filled street below.

“Batter up!” Spidey shouted, twisting sharply to send the doombot flying back up in the air. Tony twisted his arm awkwardly, taking aim, and blasted a hole clean through its chest as it flew by.

There was a moment of calm as Tony blinked away spots from the explosion. He looked to find Spider-Man rapidly scaling the glass building to get back to his level, his black combat suit making him almost invisible in the darkness.

“Not bad, kid.” The large lenses widened even more at the praise.

“Wow, thank you Mr. Stark! I should have seen it coming a little quicker, and I probably could have stuck the landing a little better, but I’m still getting used to the new suit, you know?” 

Then he seemed to realize what he’d said. 

“Not that the suit is bad!” He yelped. “Seriously, Mr. Stark, it’s great, it’s been perfect.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” Tony interrupted. Something was off about the way Spider-Man spoke. He wasn’t sure what, but an uneasy suspicion was seeding itself in his gut. “Can you get me out of this now?” He gestured to the webbing, which only served to fluster Spider-Man further.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but I can’t. I don’t have anything to dissolve it. It’ll dissolve on its own in a few minutes though, so just hang tight, okay?”

Spidey gave him a cheerful salute before he could reply, and backflipped neatly off the side of the building, swinging towards the sound of battle still going on a few blocks away.

Tony dangled in silence for a few long moments, listening to the sound of the city’s nightlife going on below. 

“This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it J?” 

“Indeed, Sir.”

\--------

The third time Spider-Man showed up, Tony vowed that he was going to be prepared.

After Spider-Man’s webs dissolved he had tried to find him again, but in the rush to get rid of the rest of the doombots, the bug had slipped away. No one else had even seen him, and the only evidence that he had ever been there was the occasional webbed up doombot.

He couldn’t explain the deep uneasiness that had taken up residence in his gut ever since he’d seen Spider-Man face to face, and he’d brushed off the team’s questions about what had happened.

His suspicions should have been resolved that same night, but as he set about hacking into SHIELD’s database, they only started growing. Tony paced around the lab impatiently as JARVIS slipped through the firewalls and began processing the enormous amounts of data. 

As the minutes dragged by, Tony gripped the edge of his workstation, watching the streams of code flash by himself until JARVIS regretfully informed him of what he’d already guessed.

There was nothing on Spider-Man. 

At least, nothing that Tony could access. The information was so highly encrypted that for the first time in years, he couldn’t break in. At least, not right away. The only thing that had come up was the data Fury had sent him to create Spidey’s suit, and then the official design Tony had sent back for approval. It was barely more than a glorified SHIELD stealth uniform, but Tony hadn’t wanted to give Fury anything more than that. The mask was a definite improvement though, as he had added a couple toys to the moveable lenses. Even so, the data available on the new suit was mostly redacted.

What was Fury trying to hide?

What was so important about Spider-Man that warranted this level of security around his identity?

He didn’t know, but he was going to find out.

\---------

“Tony, have you even slept?” Bruce asked, looking at him with concern over the rims of his glasses. The man looked pristine and well rested. A look that Tony took a lot of pride in, considering the nervous mess Bruce had been when he’d first come to live in Stark Tower.

Tony ignored him and beelined across the kitchen to the pot of coffee that was thankfully still full. He would have just made coffee up in his lab, but the team had ganged up on him and stolen his coffee machine a couple weeks ago, forcing him to come downstairs to the common room if he wanted any. He personally suspected Jarvis’s involvement, even though the A.I. had fervently denied any knowledge of it. 

Natasha and Steve looked up from where they sat in the living area, Steve’s sketchbook open between them. He had taken to drawing portraits of each of his teammates, and Natasha was constantly flipping through it. 

Steve’s bemused expression turned into a frown as he took in Tony’s unkempt appearance. It was nearly noon, he was still wearing the suit’s black under-armor, and really needed a shower.

“No, Brucie-bear, I haven’t slept, because I-” Tony lifted his mug in a toast to the rest of his teammates. “Have been working.” He slid into the seat across from Bruce at the table.

Rogers just rolled his eyes and turned back to his sketchbook, but Natasha was looking at him shrewdly.

“Did Spider-Man’s webbing damage your armor?” She asked, getting to her feet and walking towards them.

“Nope, but he is the reason I was up all night making. . .” Tony flicked a tiny silver disc towards her, which she caught deftly. “This.”

Bruce craned his head to get a better look at it. “What is it?”

“That is a little marvel of modern technology that I like to call the Internal Software Periphery Yanker, or I-SPY for short. It allows me to remotely hack anything it’s in the vicinity of, and it’s completely undetectable to any sort of scanner out there.”

“You’re trying to figure out who Spider-Man is.” 

It wasn’t a question. Tony shrugged at her, not denying it. He had a feeling Natasha knew more about all this than she was letting on. Still, he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t stop him from digging.

“You’re going to hack into SHIELD again?” Steve asked, apparently paying closer attention than Tony thought.

“You sound surprised, Captain.” Tony raised an eyebrow at him and took a long sip of coffee.

“I’m really not,” Steve retorted, but there was no bite in it. Their relationship had come a long way since the first time Steve had found him hacking into SHIELD’s database on the helicarrier nearly six months ago.

“Are you sure you need to know?” Bruce asked, taking off his glasses and polishing them nervously. “The guy wants to keep his identity a secret, what’s the big deal?”

“Call it a hunch. SHIELD has any information on the guy locked up tighter than Fort Knox, and I want to know why. All I need is to stick it on him the next time he shows up, and, once he trots back to Fury, I’ll be in.”

“Well, it looks like you’re going to have your chance.” Steve said, pulling Tony’s attention back over to him. He gestured at the TV with his pencil. “Spider-Man’s on the news.”

\---------

Tony had heard a lot of theories about how the appearance of the Avengers was actually the reason so many threats like aliens and supervillains had appeared in the last few years. Coevolution, and all that jazz. Still, he didn’t think he was reasonably to blame for the fashion disaster that was currently surrounded by the police.

The guy was huge, and dressed in so many different animal prints Tony could feel a headache coming on just by looking at him. An enormous mane of lion’s fur almost managed to cover his hulking form, and the guy had more weapons on him than was strictly necessary.

Tony pulled up midair over the scene, drawing the attention of many of the officers, and looked around for the one he’d actually come to see.

Spider-Man was sitting with his back to Tony on the edge of one of the metro tracks, completely oblivious to his presence. His legs were swinging idly, and for some reason he had a police hat and a megaphone.

“The time has come, Insect!” The man bellowed, his beady eyes never leaving Spider-Man despite the steadily growing number of police and news crews surrounding him. “Let us do battle!”

“Mr. Kraven Hunter Sir?” Spider-Man called through the megaphone, his voice crackling. “I’m going to have to ask you to stop ruining everybody’s Tuesday and turn yourself in.” 

“Is this guy for real?” Tony asked, landing with a clank on the overpass. Spider-Man leapt to his feet, his eye lenses widening comically. Tony had to congratulate himself for going for the shifting lenses, it made talking to Spider-Man exponentially more amusing.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Iron Man Tony Stark, sir,” Spider-Man said, a little breathless. He threw a thumb over his shoulder at the man in the street below. “Yeah, that’s Kraven. He shows up a lot.”

“Face me, Spider-Man! The Man of Iron will not save you from me!” 

Tony sighed and gestured for the megaphone as the man kept yelling. Spider-Man handed it over immediately.

“Hey, Rambo!” Tony shouted, retracting his face plate so he could use the megaphone. “Give it a rest, I’m trying to have a conversation here!” Spider-Man stifled a laugh as Tony turned back to him. Apparently the police took that as their cue and moved in to cuff the man that was sputtering indignantly.

“He’s supposed to be the world’s best hunter or something,” Spidey explained, scratching his head through the mesh of his mask and knocking his police hat off kelter. “He’s trying to kick it up a level though. I already had to read ‘The Most Dangerous Game’ for school, and I gotta say, I’m not a fan.”

“Speaking of school, shouldn’t you be in it?” Tony asked, watching Spider-Man carefully for his reaction. 

Spider-Man just looked at him, his confusion obvious even through the mask. “It’s June, Mr. Stark.”

Well, didn’t that just add fuel to his suspicions. Spider-Man tilted his head, eyes narrowing to white slits.

“Wait, how old do you think I am?” He asked, a little indignantly.

“Forget about it, kid.” Tony said. He handed the megaphone back and clapped an armored hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder. “So, what do you say we let the police take care of this guy and go grab something to eat? There’s a mean shawarma joint not too far from here.”

“Oh my god, are you serious? That would. . . that would be awesome!” Tony briefly wondered if Spider-Man was going to pass out in delight. His police hat tipped precariously as he gestured excitedly.

“Oh, but I can’t.” Spidey said regretfully, his hands falling. “Director Fury said I was just supposed to make sure Kraven got picked up by the police and then come right back.”

Tony dropped his hand, only half feigning disappointment. A little silver disk was now firmly attached to the back of Spider-Man’s suit. “Maybe next time.”

Spider-Man perked up and he nodded eagerly.

“For sure, Mr. Stark, that would be great.”

“See you around, kid.” Tony smiled as the face-plate clanked shut and he took off. And he would. He had made sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, 9VaniaStein9 found out that the concept art I was referencing for Spidey's look is by GuiRocha, so all the credit for the awesome design goes to them!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury calls Tony in for a little chat, and he meets a certain spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story hit 100 kudos! You guys are the best :)

New York is beautiful at sunset. Too bad the sight wasn’t doing much to calm his nerves.

Tony rolled his shoulders and extended his arms. The suit of armor on display behind him whirred to life with a familiar whine. The first time he’d done this, the pieces had slammed into him from every side, knocking the breath from him and nearly taking his head off. That had been months ago. Back when the Malibu house was still standing and Pepper by his side. She was gone now, and so was the Malibu house, but he still had the armor. He tried not to remember that was why she’d finally left.

The pieces soared quickly towards him from across the lab, latching on smoothly this time. The face plate was the last to snap into place and the display sprang to life, layering his view of the lab and the sunset-orange buildings outside with diagrams and feedback.

“To SHIELD headquarters, Sir?” JARVIS asked. Behind him a section of the wall slid open, letting in the distant sounds of cars and sirens from nearly a hundred stories below.

Tony grimaced in the privacy of his helmet. It had been a few days since he’d talked with Spider-Man on the street, and he’d been waiting for the disc to activate. So far it had not. Which could mean a couple different things. Either Spider-Man wasn’t in as regular of contact with SHIELD as Tony thought, the disc had malfunctioned, or Tony had been caught and the disc had been neutralized. 

But he was Tony Stark. The disc hadn’t malfunctioned.

And he’d received a summons to SHIELD headquarters this morning.

He was going to try and stay optimistic, though.

“Yeah, big guy. Gotta keep the missus happy.”

“Sir, are you sure you should be undertaking a flight like this? The last time you climbed to this altitude was during the Battle of-“

“I’ve got it, JARVIS.” Tony cut off the AI before he could finish. His heart was already pounding a little too hard at the reminder. “Let’s have a little optimism here, buddy. Come on, let’s go.”

With a blast he was out of the workshop and over the glittering buildings. He grinned at how smooth the takeoff was. It was one of the many things he’d been refining as he built suit after suit during the last few months. This suit was particularly light and aerodynamic, built for speed. Perfect for a quick flight a few miles above New York. He turned his face upwards toward the glowing clouds.

A steady hum filled the air as he shot upwards, growing to a roar the farther he climbed. Drops of condensation gathered on his visual feed only to streak away as he pushed through the pearly cloud layer. It ended as abruptly as it began, and an enormous shape filled the sky above him, growing larger by the second. The orange sunset glinted off the reflective panels of the helicarrier, making it invisible to the city just a few miles below it.

JARVIS helpfully pulled up a route that led to an open landing bay, and he curved towards it, making a point to stay away from the four massive rotors keeping SHIELD headquarters aloft. He’d had a lot of physically painful experiences in his life, and getting his armor shredded by one of those engines was pretty high on the list.

There was a group of agents in the landing bay waiting for him, and Tony recognized Agent Hill at the head. He landed smoothly a couple yards away, not breaking stride as the armor broke away from him, compacting themselves into their usual briefcase.

“Quite the welcoming party,” Tony said, pulling his sunglasses from his breast pocket with his free hand and flicking them on. “It’s touching, Agent Hill. I didn’t think you cared.”

Agent Hill almost cracked a smile, which wasn’t reassuring. He must be in more trouble than he thought. Especially since he was supposed to be here hours ago. Few things in life gave him more pleasure than purposefully holding up SHIELD agents though, so even under the circumstances he couldn’t resist.

“Not at all, Mr. Stark.” Agent Hill turned, and the agents with her parted to let her through. “Director Fury is waiting for you in his office.” Tony languidly followed behind her, making sure to clap one of the agents on the shoulder as he passed when he noticed him staring.

The way was quick and honestly boring. There was no evidence of the damage the helicarrier had taken before the battle of New York, and if it weren’t for the subtle rumbling under their feet there would have been no clue that the clean, industrial hallways were actually airborne. Before he knew it, Agent Hill was opening an inconspicuous door for him, and he walked in without breaking stride.

The large room screamed of spartan efficiency. The only furniture that broke up the smooth black floor, emblazoned with the logo of SHIELD, was the massive stainless steel desk and a few chairs. Floor to ceiling windows made up the wall to his right, the lights of New York’s budding nightlife glimmering far below in the gathering darkness. 

The wall behind the desk was made up entirely of screens. Video feeds, data and diagrams flashed by in a steady whirl of motion. If he didn’t have a similar setup in his own lab, it would have been dizzying to watch. Apparently it wasn’t overwhelming for Director Fury either. Maybe it was easier with just the one eye.

The man in question stood behind the desk, his back to him. His hands were clasped loosely behind him as he watched the screens.

“Sit down, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony considered this for a moment. Nah. He wandered over to the windows instead, taking in the view. A few minutes passed, but Fury continued to ignore him. Huffing a little, Tony set down his briefcase and went to pull out one of the chairs in front of the gleaming desk. After a few moments he grinned. He leaned back as far as he could and loudly put his feet up on the gleaming surface. Unfortunately Fury didn’t so much as glance at him. He remained motionless as he kept an eye on the screens.

“Do you know why you are here, Mr. Stark?” Fury finally said, the screens all going black at once.

“You’ve decided to take up my offer to switch this bucket over to arc reactor technology?” Tony said easily. “It’ll cut down your energy bill quite a bit. Could free up enough money to go on one of those employee retreats. Do some trust exercises.”

“I’ve called you here because SHIELD’s security was almost breached.” Fury glared down at him. He was looking more furious by the second. “And I have a feeling it’s something you can help with.”

“Look, I told Barton that posting those photos of you from the 80’s was a bad idea, but I don’t think it qualifies as a security breach.” Tony stretched out in his chair, letting his hands link at the base of his neck. 

“So, you have no idea what this is?” Fury pulled open a drawer on his desk and plucked a familiar sliver disc out of it. Tony resisted the urge to scowl. How had the disc not activated? It was right in the middle of SHIELD headquarters for crying out loud. They must have sabotaged it. “Because it looks to me like something only Stark Industries would be capable of producing.”

Fury had him, and judging by his expression, he knew it too. There wasn’t much point in denying it. Tony held out his hand, and Fury tossed him the disc without comment.

“All right, I’ll bite. What gave it away?” Tony examined it critically, searching for damage. Fury scoffed as he circled his desk.

“Spider-Man has super senses, you think he couldn’t feel you planting something on him?”

Huh. Typical. Tony hadn’t even thought of that. He’d spent so much time making sure the bug would be invisible to scanners that it never occurred to him that Spider-Man would be able to notice something as insignificant as its weight.

Tony shrugged and leaned back in his chair again. “To be fair, you really shouldn’t have tried so hard to hide all your stuff on him. I didn’t really care who he was before, but I do now.”

Fury snorted, which was more startling than he cared to admit. He’d never seen the man amused. It was a complete switch from how angry he’d looked just a few seconds ago. He didn’t even tell Tony to get his feet off his desk.

“That’s what this is about, Stark? That’s the reason I had to explain to the council that all of their secure data was almost remotely hacked? Spider-Man’s identity?” Fury didn’t even wait for his reply. He put a hand to the comm in his ear.

“Agent Hill, is Mr. Parker on base?” There was a moment of silence before the response apparently came. “Good. Get him in here, please.”

Fury released the button without waiting for any sort of affirmation. He leaned back against his desk, clearly content to wait in silence. Tony fought to keep his expression neutral. Was it really that easy? That made no sense. Why would Fury go through so much trouble to keep Spider-Man’s identity under wraps if he was willing to just call the guy in? Assuming that this “Mr. Parker” was actually Spider-Man.

Before he could organize his thoughts, a tentative knock came from the door.

“Enter.” Fury called, standing easily.

Tony twisted in his seat to look, and felt his heart drop. His feet decided to follow, and they fell from Fury’s desk with a thud.

It was a kid.

He was wearing a standard navy SHIELD uniform with leather detailing and everything. His dark brown hair stuck up in soft curls, framing his softly angled face. The form-fitting outfit did nothing to hide how lanky he was as he stepped into the room.

“Director Fury?” 

God, even his voice was young, Tony thought wildly. How had he not noticed before? He probably hadn’t even hit puberty yet. 

“Agent Hill said you wanted to-” He caught sight of Tony and immediately tripped over his combat boots. His mouth dropped open, looking at him in awe. If he was mad at Tony for planting a bug on him the last time they'd met, he didn't show it.

Tony spoke before he could recover, surging to his feet. He was used to hero worship, and he didn’t need to deal with that right now. His ears were ringing. 

“Excuse me, why is there a mini human in the room?” 

The boy flushed at Tony’s harsh tone, mouth snapping shut. Tony ignored that, and looked to Fury. Fury was always the voice of reason, surely he could explain what was going on. He could explain what could only be a poorly thought out joke.

Fury met his eyes calmly. The effect was ruined by the amused smirk on the man’s face.

“Stark, meet Spider-Man.” He gestured towards the teenager.

Apparently that was all that was needed to open the floodgates because the kid practically bounced the rest of the way across the room, a huge smile on his face as he gestured wildly.

“Oh my gosh! This is the best day of my life! My name’s Peter. Wow. Mr. Stark, I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you! Well, I mean we've sorta met before but still! I know I told you before, but the suit you made me is awesome!”

Tony stared. He could hear his heartbeat unnaturally loud as he looked down at the kid, whose enthusiastic word vomit was continuing unabated. This couldn't be Spider-Man. Spider-Man was the vigilante that could stop a bus with his bare hands. Spider-Man was the guy who jumped off skyscrapers. Spider-Man was the guy who had thrown himself at a doombot while Tony had been dangling uselessly from a building. He just couldn't be Spider-Man. Because if he was Spider-Man, that meant he'd let a kid go into battles in a barely armored uniform that couldn’t prevent much more than a skinned knee. A suit that Tony had slapped a spider emblem on just for fun because he couldn't be bothered to add any real protection.

His breathing stuttered at the thought. Suddenly it was as if the kid, Peter’s, face wasn’t his own anymore. It was an even smaller face with messy blond curls and terrified eyes. A kid from Tennessee that Tony had dragged into his mess, with an Extremis soldier’s arm around his neck. Another kid he had failed.

“Mr. Parker.” 

Fury’s level voice held a hint of warning in it, and it was enough to snap him out of his haze and take a quick breath. He was grateful for that, but his heart sank even further at the kid’s reaction to Fury’s tone.

Peter winced slightly and immediately stopped talking, pulling into himself to stand up straight and stiff at attention. He glanced at Tony though, as though the effort to keep quiet and still was physically painful.

“Sorry, Director Fury, sir.” 

“You may return to your quarters, Mr. Parker. I believe you have a patrol to get ready for, and I expect a full report when you get back.”

The kid gave Fury a pleading look, clearly wanting nothing more than to stay and argue. Fury raised a single eyebrow at Peter, and the kid immediately caved, blushing slightly.

“Yes, sir. I guess I’ll just . . . go. . . then.” Peter shuffled backwards, dragging his feet. “It was nice to meet you Mr. Stark!”

“See you around, kid.” Tony croaked. 

Peter smiled brilliantly at him before he turned and vanished into the hall.

Tony didn’t say a word as the door slowly swung shut. Then, as if the click of the door was the signal for his brain to start working again, he registered what Fury had said.

“Excuse me, you just said he has a what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, remember to wash your hands and stuff! I'd hate for any of you to get sick with this dang virus. My university got shut down, which sucks, but hopefully that just means I'll have more time to write!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter, the Villains.
> 
> Enter, the Main Protagonist.

By all accounts, the old building had been abandoned. Why anyone would bother with the outdated facility far from the city center when OSCORP had upgraded to its tower was anyone's guess.

Weak fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead as the man stalked down the dingy hallway, mouth twisting at the filth. He should have torn it down and sold it long ago, but in light of recent events, it had found a new purpose. 

Reaching the end of the hall, he impatiently pressed the button to call the elevator. The smooth sound of its ascent belied the door's worn appearance. Its sleek interior slid into view, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside. His hands flexed a couple times as it started down without any prompting. He wished he could have sent someone else to deal with this, but this particular project was off the books and required a more hands-on approach.

With a soft ding, the elevator stopped. The door slid open, the light cutting sharply into the gloom of the lab. The man stepped out immediately, but he only made it a few steps before the doors shut behind him, plunging the lab back into near darkness. His steps slowed, the back of his neck prickling. It was a cavernous room, and felt even larger with its walls lost in shadow. His footsteps sounded oddly muffled. The only source of illumination came from clusters of dimly lit computer screens grouped at unusual heights at the room's center. Thick clusters of cables and looming pieces of equipment interrupted the almost green lighting, only adding to the unnerving sensation of being underwater.

“Octavius,” He called loudly, folding his arms loosely in front of him. “A moment of your time? I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush. I’ve got to take Harry to an entrance interview with some STEM school, and my presence is required elsewhere.”

The buzzing of the computer screens was almost deafening. Then, in the darkness behind him, something stirred. The screens flickered as a sinuous whispering reached his ears, interspersed with soft clanks that couldn’t be mistaken for footsteps.

“Norman Osborn.” 

The gravelly voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, and Norman suppressed a shiver. He refused to turn as the hiss of machinery circled, growing closer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m here for an update on the VENOM project. Or did you forget that’s the only reason for your continued employment here?”

Without warning the light from the screens was blocked by a monstrous silhouette as Octavius moved into view. His bulbous body hung suspended a few feet off the floor, the ends of the robotic arms holding him aloft lost in the shadows.

Despite how unpleasant the sight was, Norman couldn’t help but be relieved to have Octavius where he could see him. The man was utterly deranged. He was one of the most brilliant scientists out there, though his genius had largely gone unrecognized due to his questionable research practices. Not that that mattered here, of course. If anything, it was a strength. 

Long, greasy hair caught the light of the monitors as Octavius tilted his head to look down at him. 

“Mr. Osborn, I can hardly work if I don’t have my test subject.” 

“Oh? And how is that coming by the way?” Norman didn’t try to mask the disdain in his voice. “You insist that capturing Spider-Man is crucial to your research, yet all of your efforts don’t seem to have amounted to much, have they?”

The robotic arms shifted, pulling Octavius around to face one of the screens. The red lenses over his eyes flashed as he began typing rapidly.

“Kraven was a failure,” Octavius acknowledged.

“I’m well aware,” Norman snapped, his jaw clenching. “It was all over the news.”

“Then you are also aware that Spider-Man has made some powerful allies.”

“Dr. Octavius, I’ve invested millions in your research, and made countless allowances for your-” Norman waved a hand vaguely around the lab. “-eccentricities. You promised me genetically enhanced soldiers, and where has that gotten me? The only thing I have to show for it are a few radioactive rats and empty promises to catch a single spider. I don’t care who is on Spider-Man’s side. I want him back here, now!”

Octavius continued typing as Norman shouted, letting him rant uninterrupted. When he was done, Octavius shifted away from the screens, lowering himself until he was nearly at eye level.

“If you tire of sending hitmen and spies, perhaps you’ll allow me to capture him myself.”

Norman scoffed, turning away. They were devolving into the same arguments they’d been having for months.

“After the disaster you caused last time? You derailed an entire metro trying to pin the bug down, and for what? He defeated you. The only reason you weren’t taken into custody was the fact that Spider-Man was too busy trying to pull people from the wreckage to come after you.”

Octavius glared at him, his mouth twisting in an ugly grimace. His voice lowering to a vicious hiss. 

“My arms are stronger than ever! Spider-Man wouldn’t stand a chance against me now! I know how he thinks, how he moves. I wouldn’t even have to go looking for him. He would come to me on his own.”

Norman rubbed his temple, trying to calm the headache that was rapidly forming. This needed to be resolved one way or the other. Either he got what he needed, or the VENOM project would be buried along with everyone who was a part of it.

“Very well, Octavius. I will give you one last chance.” The doctor withdrew slightly, clearly surprised. Norman held up a threatening finger. “On one condition. Spider-Man needs to come quietly. I don’t care how you do it, but I can’t have his new friends sniffing around. You wait for him to appear, alone, and then you go after him.”

Norman turned as the elevator opened behind him, its light carving a clear path back to it. He straightened his suit coat with a sharp tug and strode back to the safety the elevator promised. He turned before the door could close and smiled.

“If you can’t deliver, I will publicly expose and denounce you. You and your research. I’m sure the families of all those people you killed would be more than happy to see you thrown in jail.”

\---------

Peter grinned as he pushed out of the glass doors and into the bright sunlight. He took off down the stairs, the pigeons in his path fluttering out of his way, and his backpack smacked heavily against his back as he took the stairs three or four at a time. The nice librarian who had helped him had looked horrified by the amount of books he had packed into it, but he didn’t notice the weight. Just one of the advantages of enhanced strength.

He slipped past the familiar lion statue and joined the stream of people on the sidewalk, letting the familiar flow carry him along. The sights and sounds of the cars and shops and people were sharp and overwhelming, and he loved it. Man, he'd missed New York. He knew he'd technically never left it, but he'd been a couple miles above it more than in it the last few months. Especially over the last couple weeks. 

Peter frowned, adjusting the straps on his shoulders as he waited at a light. 

Director Fury had been more and more reluctant about letting him go out as Spider-Man, or even as a civilian for some reason. Even now, his spider-sense tingled with the warning that he was being watched. It was annoying that some agent was following him around to keep an eye on him. He was just walking around, it’s not like anything was going to happen! And even if it did, it wasn't like he couldn't handle it.

Whatever. His time was limited, so he had to make the most of it.

He hopped up a nearby stairwell to get out of the stream of people and get his bearings. He was less familiar with Midtown than he was with Queens, but he still knew a few cool places. He only had an hour before he had to meet up at the rendezvous point to catch a ride back up to HQ, and he considered his options. 

There was an old comic book store that he and Ned had gone to, back before everything. It would be weird going there without him though, so that was out. There was a arcade a few blocks away, which could be fun. He also remembered seeing a hookah lounge a few blocks away in the opposite direction, and swallowed a laugh. He could just see the look on the face of the agent who would have to report it to Director Fury if he went somewhere like that.

His stomach abruptly grumbled, reminding him it had been nearly two hours since he’d last eaten. That sort of made his decision for him. Maybe some questionably prepared street food would take the edge off. He could really use a taco. SHIELD cafeteria food in the quantity that he had to consume it got dull pretty quickly.

The walk-signal flicked green, but as he stepped on the road his spider-sense prickled. He hopped back easily as a car braked sharply in front of him, stopping in the middle of the crosswalk. 

Frowning, Peter took another step back. Rude drivers weren’t exactly something new, but it wasn’t like there wasn’t room on the street. It was a nice car too. He didn’t know much about car models or anything, but he could appreciate the sleek lines and rumble of the engine.

The tinted window slid down and Peter winced. The driver was a big guy. Even more intimidating was the grumpy, unimpressed look on his face.

“Get in, kid.” 

Peter tensed, ready to run for it. The only reason someone would have singled him out was if they knew about his connection with Spider-Man or SHIELD. Still, he hesitated. Unlike a few seconds ago, his spider-sense wasn’t tingling at all. Well, that wasn't true. He could almost feel the SHIELD agent’s eyes burning into him from wherever they were watching him from. 

“Sorry, I’m not supposed to get into cars with strangers.”

Abruptly, the back window rolled down and a familiar face looked at him impatiently from behind a pair of red lenses. 

“Come on kid,” The man complained. “I don’t have all day.”

“Mr. Stark?” Distantly, Peter wondered if he would ever be able to say anything coherent, or even slightly intelligent, to this man. Probably not, if this was any indication. Or last night. Or any time really. 

“Good to see that SHIELD training is paying off, Underoos.” Mr. Stark said, rolling his eyes. 

“Under-- what?” 

Nope. He was never going to stop embarrassing himself in front of this man. Apparently Mr. Stark had no interest in explaining himself, because he continued before Peter could think of a response.

“Time is money, kid. Chop chop, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

The grumpy looking driver actually got out and opened the door opposite Mr. Stark, looking at him pointedly. 

The poor agent following him was going to have a fit. But, what was he supposed to do? Ignore him? 

Peter slowly circled the car, keeping close attention on his spider-sense as he did. Within a couple seconds he was sliding into the backseat, swinging his backpack to sit on the floor between his feet. On the floor of Tony Stark’s car. That he was in. With Tony Stark.

Mr. Stark was looking at him with an unreadable expression, eyes masked by his sunglasses. Even in the backseat of a car, he cut an imposing figure. His undoubtedly expensive suit made Peter’s jeans and tshirt feel very shabby in comparison. It made Peter twitchy, and when he got nervous, he talked. It was a habit Director Fury was trying to train out of him, but so far he hadn’t succeeded.

He tried not to fidget as the car pulled away. Mr. Stark didn’t say anything, he just sat there, looking at him appraisingly. His nerves finally got the better of him. 

“So, what’s going on?” Then, a thought struck him, and he glanced around, instinctively lowering his voice. “Is there a mission?” 

The driver snorted in the front seat.

Mr. Stark sighed, and pulled off his sunglasses, fixing him in a flat stare. 

“Okay, so first off, no. Second, we apparently need to go over the fact that you shouldn’t get in cars with strangers. I swear kid, it’s like SHIELD didn’t teach you anything.”

Okay. Wow. Peter didn’t really have a good response to that. 

“So, what are we doing?”

Mr. Stark’s mouth quirked up in the smirk Peter had seen hundreds of times in photos. It was a little scary in person.

“We're going to the workshop, of course. I’ve got to make some serious updates to your suit. Fury didn’t let me have any fun while I was designing it, but now that I have a better idea of what you can do, you need some upgrades.”

Mr. Stark slipped his sunglasses back on smoothly, as if he couldn’t tell Peter’s head was about to explode. He was going to Tony Stark’s personal workshop? In the Avenger Tower? Just like that? What even was his life?

But then, all of his excitement deflated at once and he slumped against the leather seats.

“Does Director Fury know? If I want to get a ride back to base, I have to be at the meeting place in like an hour.”

“You think I don't have a way to get you back before curfew?” Mr. Stark flapped his hand carelessly, blatantly avoiding the question. So that was a no, then. 

Peter looked out the window, his hands fidgeted with his seat belt. Mr. Stark was acting like he couldn't care less what Fury thought, but Peter wasn't sure if he believed it. He knew that they had argued last night. His enhanced hearing had been just strong enough to catch the sound of them yelling at one another, though not enough to catch the words. It wasn’t hard to guess what it had been about.

“Fury’s not going to like this, is he?” 

Mr. Stark snorted, idly tapping at his phone. “Oh, absolutely not. Probably get his little eyepatch in a twist.” 

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. He was already going to be in trouble as it was, so why not push it a little more? He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“I’m in.” 

Time with Tony Stark, new gear, and the chance to tick off Fury? It was a no brainer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the good news is that the kidnapping I tagged has already arrived. Hope it wasn't too traumatic for anyone :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony spends a day with Peter, but not everybody is happy about it.

When he invited Peter Parker into his private workshop, the last thing Tony expected was to enjoy himself. The kid barely made it out of the elevator before his mouth dropped open. Not that Tony blamed him. The sleek silver lines of the walls and staircases gleamed in the light of the floor to ceiling windows. Dozens of sets of armor, in varying stages of development, were everywhere. 

Tony strode into the familiar space, leaving Peter to gawk at the view. The lab powered up around him as he went, springing to life with a familiar hum. 

"Welcome back, Sir." JARVIS greeted politely. Peter squeaked in surprise behind him, and Tony smirked. "I see you've brought a guest."

"Hello," Peter said timidly, looking towards the ceiling.

"Hello, Mr. Parker. Welcome to Avengers Tower. My name is JARVIS. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable."

"No need to be so formal, J." Tony turned and raised an eyebrow at Peter, who had slowed to a stop behind him, hands clutching at the straps of his backpack. Peter flushed, and jogged to catch up with him.

"I apologize, Sir. As it is Mr. Parker's first time in the Tower, I thought it best to make a good impression."

"So cool," Peter breathed, coming level with him. He followed obediently to the main workstation, watching as Tony flicked open the programs he needed.

"Shooter," Tony said, holding out his hand expectantly. Peter just looked at him, nonplussed. Tony flexed his fingers impatiently. "Give me one of your shooters, kid. And lose the backpack while you're at it."

"Oh! Oh, okay." Peter quickly shed his backpack, which hit the floor with a disproportionately loud thud. Peter coughed slightly when Tony stared at it suspiciously, flushing as he unclasped the cuff around his wrist. "Here."

Tony decided to ignore the backpack and placed the cuff on the table. The surface immediately turned blue, and Peter shuffled closer, his brown eyes wide as a perfect replica of the shooter appeared in the air above it.

"Woah," Peter said, entranced by the hologram. He went to tap it, and jumped when it went spinning wildly.

Yeah, the workshop had been a good choice to distract the kid. Tony hadn’t been expecting him to have much interest in anything less than the Iron Man armor, but if his reactions so far were any indicator, this could be more entertaining than he thought.

“I know it’s cool kid, that’s why I have it. And ease up on the pressure, it’s not a touch screen.” 

Peter flushed, but managed to catch hold of the blue image. With a deftness that surprised Tony a little, Peter wrapped the image around his bare wrist as snugly as if it were the original. His laugh lit up the lab as he pressed the lever, and a holographic web shot out and stuck to a nearby table.

“All right, walk me through it, kid.” Tony said briskly. The blue web blinked out as Peter turned back to him, startled. 

“What?”

Tony leaned back against the workbench and gestured at the hologram around his wrist. “You said you made this thing from scratch, so show me how you did it.”

“Can’t you tell already?” 

Tony raised an eyebrow, and Peter rushed to clarify. “I mean, you’re way better at this stuff than I could ever be, so why would you want me to explain?”

Peter fidgeted as Tony considered how to respond. Unlike most of his R&D team, Peter wasn’t fishing for compliments. He probably thought this was some sort of test. Which it was, but he wasn’t going to embarrass the kid over what was probably amateur engineering. He had been inventing by the time he was Peter's age, and he couldn't help but wonder just what he could do.

“I know how I would make it," Tony said, shrugging. "I want to know how Peter Parker would make it.” 

Peter ran a hand through his hair, making his dark curls stand up even more, probably trying to gauge if he was serious. When Tony just leaned back against the table, waiting expectantly, his eyes lit up with shy enthusiasm. “I'll tell you how I made this version, then," He grinned at Tony. "The first ones I made exploded webbing everywhere.”

Tony listened attentively as Peter walked him through the mechanism, grudgingly impressed. Once he was done, Tony nodded once, satisfied. "Not bad, kid." He lit up at the praise. Tony snapped his fingers and the model broke into pieces, soaring over to him and reassembling around his own wrist. "Let's make it better." 

He went into “workshop mode" as Pepper called it, and, to his surprise, Peter matched him almost step for step. Tony never worked side by side with anyone but Bruce if he could help it, but stopping to explain things to Peter wasn’t annoying. The kid caught on fast. He also didn't seem to care that Tony was tearing his design apart. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it, and even argued with him on several aspects of the design 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been when Peter abruptly turned and stared at the door of the workshop.

“Someone’s coming,” Peter said simply, cutting him off in the middle of his argument that inconel steel would be a better material to use in the spring mechanism.

It really should have hit him sooner, but somehow it took seeing Bruce Banner’s face as he entered the lab a second later for Tony to realize that he had sort of abducted a child.

To be fair, it had all seemed very straightforward in his head. Spider-Man was out risking his life fighting robots and who knew what else. Spider-Man was a kid. If Spider-Man wasn’t with SHIELD, then a kid wouldn’t be fighting robots. Simple. It had been easy to find his name on the list of agents cleared to leave the helicarrier the next day, and even easier for Jarvis to run facial recognition software to pinpoint his location.

Peter hadn’t even made it difficult. Which was admittedly an issue, but Tony decided he’d deal with it later. It just went to show that SHIELD wasn’t doing a particularly good job of looking after him. Besides, it was hard to think that he was doing anything wrong when the kid looked at everything, including him, with that starstruck look on his face. 

Five seconds was a long time to stare at someone in complete silence.

It was definitely long enough for Tony to regret telling Bruce everything after getting back from the helicarrier last night. 

“Tony?” Bruce said warily, not moving from the doorway. 

He’d already put the pieces together, Tony could see it in his eyes. Time to abort. He had to get Bruce out of here.

“You’re Bruce Banner!” 

And, so much for that, Tony thought with a wince.

Bruce’s attention was thankfully diverted as Peter rushed forward, tripping over his backpack as he went. Tony followed a step behind. 

After a couple hours in his lab last night, he’d finally been able to reconcile the fact that Spider-Man was apparently a teenager. It had taken a couple more to decide that he needed to do something to get him away from SHIELD so that he could talk to the kid. It wasn’t until Peter had slid into his backseat that he’d realized, while he knew Spider-Man, he knew next to nothing about Peter Parker. He hadn’t really thought past getting the kid to come to the Tower, and working on a new suit for the kid was a logical excuse.

Luckily for him, Peter Parker had turned out to be one of the most interesting teenagers Tony had ever met.

He was impressed. And he never got impressed.

And now he was going to have to share because there was no way Bruce was going to keep quiet about this.

“-and your thesis on Dynamic Deformation Theory? That was amazing! I didn’t understand everything, but what I did understand made total sense and I-”

Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder, cutting him off. He had discovered over the past few hours that the kid had a serious word vomit problem, and Bruce was looking a little lost. Peter didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed at being interrupted. He smiled up at Tony, practically vibrating with excitement. 

“I didn’t know Dr. Banner was here! Do you guys work together a lot?” Peter didn’t wait for a reply, and turned back Bruce. “There was a picture of you hanging in the chemistry classroom at my old school.”

Bruce looked so overwhelmed by that last tidbit that Tony almost felt a little sorry for him. He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from Peter to look at Tony.

“Tony, can I talk to you?” Bruce said weakly. “Now?”

“Sure thing, Brucie-bear.” 

Peter looked between them, a small line between his brows. Tony squeezed the hand still on the kid’s shoulder, getting his attention.

“Hey kid, why don’t you grab the toys you need to make some of your webbing for Dr. Banner? I’m sure he’ll want to take a look at it. Do you remember where everything is?”

Peter’s face cleared, but he picked at the hem of his shirt nervously. Tony winced. Peter didn’t know that Bruce already knew about his alter-ego. Nice. He hadn’t seemed to mind that Fury had told Tony last night.

“I remember, Mr. Stark, but I don’t think Dr. Banner would be very interested in it, it’s basically just fancy glue.” Peter hedged. Tony relaxed a little at that, and brushed off his protests.

“Nonsense, kid, that stuff is right up his alley.” Tony made to grab Bruce. “Just hang out here until we get back and don’t touch anything that you know can blow up. JARVIS will put on some music for you.”

Tony hauled Bruce out of the lab as the first notes of "Jailbreak" started playing. Apparently JARVIS was feeling clever. They hadn’t gone more than ten feet into the empty hallway before Bruce yanked Tony to a stop. 

“Please tell me that was not Spider-Man.” He gestured shakily towards the lab, his glasses slightly askew. "All right," Tony said easily. "That's not Spider-Man." 

“Tony, what is he doing here? Does Fury know where he is?”

Well, that didn’t go the direction he was hoping it would. Tony raised an eyebrow at Bruce’s panicked expression. Luckily sarcasm never abandoned him in times of need, and a response slipped out almost effortlessly.

“If he didn’t, I’d have to seriously reconsider my confidence in SHIELD’s capabilities.” 

Bruce pulled out of the hold Tony still had on his arm, pressing his palms together in front of his face. 

“Please tell me that you did not kidnap Spider-Man.” His voice was slightly muffled by his hands, but the pleading tone was clear. Honestly, Tony didn’t see why Bruce was so upset, he probably should have seen this coming.

“Well, legally speaking, he came willingly, so I don’t think it counts.”

This was apparently too much for Bruce. He whipped off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose harshly, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Tony folded his arms, knowing he deserved the lecture that was coming, but not regretting what he’d done either.

“Tony, look, I know you’re upset.” Tony sniffed at the overly patient tone Bruce had adopted. “Last night was a shock, and I know you think he’s too young to be with SHIELD, but you can’t just swoop in and take him!” 

“See, that’s just it, Bruce.” Tony gestured towards the frosted glass that separated them from the kid, a hint of anger leaking into his voice. “From what I understand, that’s exactly what Fury did. Someone's got it out for that kid, and apparently he has nowhere else to go. You know better than anyone that SHIELD has a habit of showing up and making sure you don’t have any other options.” 

Bruce scowled at the reminder, but didn't interrupt.

“The thing is, I get why Fury wants him at SHIELD. That kid is crazy smart. Like, almost as smart as us, smart. And that’s on top of being the guy that’s made our jobs a heck of a lot easier these past few weeks. I get it. But, he’s a kid. I don’t care what Fury says, he shouldn't have to play superhero to get help.”

"So, what?" Bruce asked, folding his arms. "Are you going to try and put him in the system? A kid like that?"

"No." Tony immediately rejected the idea, and Bruce's eyes flashed with frustration.

"Then, what? Tony, you have to think this through! This isn't one of your projects, it's a teenager."

"He'll stay here." Tony snapped, finally voicing the idea that had been forming in his mind for the last day. Bruce faltered.

"You're joking." Bruce looked at him closely, and his eyes widened. "You're not joking."

"No, I'm not." Tony said shortly. Why was this so hard to believe? Was it really so unbelievable that he could take care of someone? Sure, he wasn't exactly a role model for healthy life choices, but it's not like he doesn't have the resources! Besides, Peter was already a teenager. He'd been going off to college at that age, it's not like it'd be that hard to make sure the kid had what he needed.

Bruce's fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on his folded arms, his eyes skeptical. "Why would you want to take in a teenager?"

"I'm sick of watching Fury make people into soldiers." 

Tony winced the moment the words were out of his mouth. They were way too honest. Bruce knew how badly his nightmares of the battle of New York haunted him. After Pepper left, it had mostly fallen to Bruce and Rhodey to help him through the panic attacks that still threatened him whenever he so much as thought about that day. They'd only gotten worse once she was gone. He hadn't done enough to protect her when he'd had the chance, and it was only now that he realized how much he needed her to keep him grounded.

Bruce stepped away, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Okay.” 

Tony jumped slightly. “What?”

Bruce looked at him, resignation deepened the wrinkles around his eyes. 

“For the record, I think this is a terrible idea. Fury is not going to be happy. But if you’re serious about this, then I won’t stop you. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Tony pushed down the unease that stirred in his stomach. He wasn’t sure that he did, but he knew what he was doing was right. It wouldn't be the first time he acted on an impulse. He clapped his hands together, loudly, making Bruce jump.

“Great, now that we’re on the same page, can you come and take a look at the kid’s webbing? You’re better at the chemistry stuff.”

Bruce frowned at his forced cheerfulness, but followed him back into the lab. Peter was setting up shop at an empty workstation, and Bruce went to join him.

Tony went back to the holograms to give them space, but kept an eye on the two of them as Peter launched into a long explanation on how he’d come up with his formula. He was a lot less shy around Bruce, which made Tony weirdly jealous. Bruce warmed up to him just as quickly, and Peter lit up at the attention. Tony let his hands go to work automatically, barely paying attention as night fell outside the windows.

Bruce had accepted his plan really well, all things considered. He wasn’t sure how he’d break it to the rest of the team, but first he had to figure out how to keep Peter here. It was getting late, and the kid was going to ask about getting back to SHIELD eventually. He wasn’t going to get far if he couldn’t convince Peter that staying at the Tower was the best thing for him.

Tony accidentally caught Bruce’s eye and forced himself to stop watching them so he could focus. He couldn't stop thinking over everything Fury had told him last night, trying to piece together everything he knew about Spider-Man's attachment to SHIELD.

“The Avengers is all about bringing together a team of remarkable people," Fury had said, once Tony had calmed down enough to listen. "Mr. Parker is one of those people. His family is gone. The last of them was killed just months ago. He has powerful enemies, and they're trying pretty damn hard to get their hands on him. We shield many from danger when no one else can, or will. Right now, we’re shielding him, in the hope that one day, he can become one of the earth’s protectors.”

But who was after him? Did he really not have any family to go to? He had always assumed the Spider-Man was one of the mutants, but if they hadn't reached out, then maybe he wasn't? Or he was, and his enemies were mutants themselves? They were an elusive group. He only knew they existed because of the files he'd found on them from the first time he'd hacked into SHIELD's database. Most of the profiles didn't paint a pretty picture.

“Tony.” 

Bruce’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he blinked at the other man. Bruce was looking at him with obvious excitement, though Peter was fidgeting with his hem again, his blush obvious even from where Tony was standing. 

“Come over here and look at this.”

Curious, Tony left his station. Peter stepped back as he approached so that he could take a look at the beaker of opaque goo sitting on the table, sounding nervous as he protested.

“It’s really not a big deal! It took a while to get the silk proteins to synthesize right, but once I figured out the mechanism, it was easy to make it strong enough to swing from.”

Tony picked up the vial, the off-white goo surprisingly light. He couldn’t see what the big deal was, but Bruce was quick to enlighten him. He snagged the vial from his hand. Using a probe, he teased some of the material out of the beaker. It stretched easily, silky fiber structures forming as it went. Bruce looked almost giddy.

“Tony, this is synthetic spider webbing.” 

“Are you serious?” Tony leaned closer, interest piqued. He had known that Spider-Man’s webbing was some pretty heavy duty stuff. It had to be, to manage to tangle up his armor like it had. That was why he’d wanted to have Bruce take a look at it, but that was not what he’d been expecting.

“If not, it's pretty darn close,” Bruce amended. He turned to Peter, who was watching them anxiously. “You said you figured this out on your own?”

“Well, yeah.” Peter made a helpless gesture, towards the beaker still in Bruce’s hand. “It just made sense? I mean, I got my powers from a radioactive spider bite, and I could already climb around like one, so it made sense for me to have webs too.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Tony interrupted, pulling their attention back to him. At least that answered the mutant question, even if it raised about a dozen more in its place. “Putting aside the radioactive spider, because I don’t even want to think about that at the moment, you’re telling me that you were so committed to the spider aesthetic that you went and figured out something that’s been stumping chemists for decades?”

“I guess?” 

Bruce laughed, looking torn between disbelief and admiration, and raised the vial. “Peter, do you mind if I take this to my personal lab to run some tests? I’d love to get a closer look at the molecular structure.”

“Sure, Dr. Banner." Peter agreed easily, "Please don’t tell anyone where you got it though.”

Bruce smiled warmly at him. “Call me Bruce, Peter. And don’t worry, I’ll be discreet.”

“Okay, Bruce.” Peter squeaked out. Bruce didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his own excitement. Grabbing the jacket he'd discarded, he quickly left the lab, leaving Tony alone with Peter once again.

Peter watched him go with a dazed smile on his face, and Tony smirked at the obvious hero worship. The best part of it was that Bruce easily had just as much respect for Peter. Who would have thought that a scrappy teenager in a punny science t-shirt and scuffed up sneakers would be able to impress not just Bruce Banner but Tony Stark in one afternoon?

“So, a radioactive spider huh?” Tony asked casually. "That's the story you're going with?"

Peter tore his eyes away from the lab door, and his hand jumped to the back of his neck. 

“Yeah? I know it sounds totally crazy, but it's the truth. It was pretty trippy at first. I kept breaking everything, and my senses were dialed up, to like an eleven, for weeks. It was awful.” His face twisted at the memory. But then it cleared, and he turned back to his workstation, restlessly putting the materials back in their place.

“Uh, speaking of which.” Peter's throat bobbed, suddenly looking incredibly uncomfortable. “I should tell you that my hearing is, like, really good. And, I know you had music going, and I swear I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but I could hear some of what you said to Dr. Banner earlier.”

Tony froze. What had he overheard? When Tony didn't say anything, Peter stopped fidgeting with the beakers and turned to look up at him. 

“I just want to say that I’m not with SHIELD because anyone forced me, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony chewed on this, taking in Peter's squared shoulders and the stubborn set of his mouth. He had no idea how he thought this conversation was going to go, but Peter bringing it up first was not what he’d expected. He obviously meant what he said, but there was a difference between being forced to do something and not having any other options. He wanted to ask. He wanted to ask how this innocent looking kid had gotten pulled into this mess.

“Do you want to go back?” He asked instead.

Peter startled, face twisting in confusion. “No! I mean, yes. I mean-” He trailed off, looking incredibly uncomfortable. 

That, more than anything, cemented something inside him. Peter, from what he could tell, was ridiculously honest and open about what he was thinking and feeling. If the kid had been able to look him in the eye and tell him he had no regrets or second thoughts about joining up with SHIELD, Tony would have let it go. Eventually. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he would.

“Look, kid,” Tony said. Normally he would just make what he wanted to happen happen, but that wouldn’t work here. He could go against Fury, but not if Peter was going to fight him about it too. "I don’t know how you ended up with SHIELD, but I wouldn't be so quick to trust them. They may not have forced you to join, but they always have an ulterior motive. You don't have to go back."

Peter slumped back against the table, and looked down at his feet. Tony watched him closely, but his face was strangely blank, the complete opposite of the excited kid he'd spent the afternoon with. 

"There's a lot going on that you don't know about, Mr. Stark." Peter said finally, not meeting his eye. "I owe a lot to SHIELD. I can't just quit."

Tony hesitated at the heaviness in Peter's voice. A weight that shouldn't belong to a teenager. There was a lot he didn't know about Peter Parker. The kid was a mystery and the more he learned, the more questions seemed to appear. He clearly had baggage, but then again, who didn't? It was hard to imagine anything too drastic from the kid who was anxiously scuffing his shoe against the floor and not meeting his eye.

“I’m not saying you need to decide right now,” Peter's eyes flew up at the sound of his voice. Tony wasn't used to making things sound like a request, but he tried to choose his words carefully. “But it’s late. JARVIS can show you the way to our guest floor.”

"When you picked me up earlier, were you planning on letting me go back to headquarters?" Peter asked after a moment, eyes narrowing.

"No." Peter looked surprised by his honesty, and he mulled that over for a moment.

“What about Director Fury? Won’t he be mad?” 

Tony actually cracked a smile at that. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with the one-eyed wonder.” He counted it as a victory when Peter smiled a little. 

“Why don’t you head up and get settled? I can clean up here.” Tony added. “Or, DUM-E will. It’s the only thing he’s good for anyways.”

Peter immediately squawked in protest, jumping to the robot's defense. “Hey, don’t be mean! DUM-E is a model citizen, I can only hope I can be half as good as he is.”

Tony laughed, the easiness of it taking him by surprise. “Just dump motor oil in my coffee every now and then, and you’ll be there, kid.”

\---------

It didn’t take long for the call to come, but this time Tony was prepared. 

Peter had left the lab, looking uncertain but delighted to talk more with JARVIS as he went to find the guest room. Tony had busied himself cleaning up the lab and shooing DUM-E away from the more dangerous chemicals Peter had left out. Normally he’d show Peter up to the guest floor himself, the one he had prepared for Thor if he ever showed up in New York again, but he didn’t want Peter to be around when Fury called. No matter what he told the kid, he knew it was going to turn into another fight pretty quickly.

“Sir, Directory Fury is on the line.” 

Tony straightened up at JARVIS’ warning. “Where’s the kid?”

“Mr. Parker is currently on guest floor two. He entered the en suite restroom a few moments ago.”

Tony relaxed a little at that. The guest floor was several floors away, which he was hoping was out of Spider-kid’s hearing range. He’d really have to do some tests.

“Patch him through, J.”

The feed shimmered into view in the middle of the lab, but Tony ignored it.

“Stark.”

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help a small grin. Fury did not sound happy. But then, Tony didn’t think he ever did.

“Nicky boy!” Tony called back, tapping in the code to lock the chemical storage unit. 

“Care to explain why Mr. Parker didn’t make it back to headquarters this afternoon?”

Tony turned to face the screen. Fury looked exactly as he always did, and Tony briefly wondered if the man ever slept. He must. He never acted tired, but no matter how late it was Fury always looked two seconds away from getting in a fistfight with God.

“Got busy helping old ladies cross the street?” Tony suggested innocently.

“Could be,” Fury agreed, his one eye inscrutable. “Or it could have something to do with him getting in a car with you at 3:17 this afternoon.”

So much for plausible deniability. Tony’s fingers twitched, and he thought longingly of the minibar that had vanished along with his coffee machine.

“You stalking a kid, Fury? That’s not SHIELD’s normal flavor of creepy.”

Fury tilted his head, his gaze boring into him. “Clearly it was justified. There’s a reason we keep an eye on him.”

“What, you think he’s dangerous?” Tony scoffed, though he briefly thought back on a moment of alarm when Peter had triggered his other web shooter and nearly knocked a table over. He'd never seen a kid look so flustered.

“No, but the men after him are.”

Tony didn’t have a response to that. Even after passing an entire day with the kid, he was no closer to finding out what had driven Spider-Man to throw in with SHIELD. If he was at risk even unmasked, it was more serious than he thought.

“Sharing is caring, Nick. Who, exactly, is after him?”

Fury scowled. “That’s currently under investigation, and as such, I have to ask that you think twice before you steal my ward. Until this is resolved, SHIELD is the safest place for him.” 

“Well, what if it wasn’t?” Tony said. Fury’s eye narrowed, but Tony cut him off, crossing the lab to get closer to the screen. 

“No, no. You said it yourself,” Tony jabbed a finger at the screen. “'Spider-Man could be a real asset to the team with the right training and experience.' Why not start now? Avengers Tower is one of the most secure locations on the planet, and that’s without the team of superheroes downstairs. If it's security you're worried about, I've got it covered.”

“And who would look after him?” Fury asked sardonically, “You?”

“Yes.” 

Tony folded his arms and tried to look as confident as he sounded. It was true that, at first, his plan had been to offer Spider-Man a place to stay in the Tower and call it good. But, after talking to Bruce, and now Fury, he was starting to get that what he was offering would entail a little more than that. Oddly enough, that didn’t make him want to back down. He could think of worse things than looking after Peter Parker. How hard could it be?

“And why would you want to take in a teenager?” 

Bruce had asked the same question earlier, but it felt different coming from Fury. Bruce had been exasperated, assuming he was joking. Fury actually seemed to be considering it. The lack of argument threw him off for a second.

“Seems like a decent kid. Too smart for SHIELD, so he’s mine now. No take backs.” Tony quipped, recovering. 

Fury leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together thoughtfully. “And what does Mr. Parker say about all this?”

Tony suppressed a flinch. He hadn't actually offered to let Peter stay permanently in the tower, but that was a minor detail. They could hash it out in the morning. 

“Oh, he’s thrilled." Tony lied Almost cried when I told him he didn’t have to go back.”

“Is that so?” For the first time, Fury looked amused. Before Tony could question it, JARVIS spoke up.

“Sir?" He'd never heard JARVIS sound so sheepish. "I hate to interrupt, but it appears Mr. Parker has left the building.” 

"What?" Tony blurted. 

"I apologize Sir, it appears he climbed out the window."

With a sharp gesture, Tony ended the call. The smug look on Fury’s face was almost too much to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys! I'm getting to the end of the semester, and things have been really busy. This chapter's a bit longer than the others though, so I hope that makes up for it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets a summons from Fury, a new room, and a meeting with some new Avengers.

He never imagined he’d be afraid of a door, but the entrance to Fury’s office was an exception.

Peter swallowed hard, his mouth weirdly dry. The gleaming metal door hadn’t gotten less intimidating over the past ten minutes, and his palms were starting to get sweaty. He didn’t regret getting in Tony Stark’s car yesterday, but getting an official summons to Fury’s office at the crack of dawn was still terrifying. 

The hallways had been pretty much deserted on his way here. Fury tried to limit how much time he spent walking around the hallways without his mask, so the early hour made sense. He just wished, for once, that more people had been around to see him in case this meeting led to his premature, and probably untraceable, death. 

“What happened to that kid who used to come in here?” Some agent would ask. 

“Heard he ditched his escort and missed curfew,” Another would whisper knowingly, checking over their shoulder. “Saw him going into Fury’s office. He probably got offered as a sacrifice to the alien overlords.”

Okay. The alien thing was a little bit of a stretch. He was pretty sure Fury wasn’t working with any aliens besides Thor. At least recently. He had some theories. 

Peter ran his hands down his front, trying to smooth out his uniform. His spider sense wasn’t picking up any danger from Director Fury’s office, but he couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding.

There had been a night, when he was first starting out as Spider-Man, that he’d snuck out to test the limits of his sticky fingers on the buildings around Queens. He’d been on his way down the side of an apartment complex when some lady had seen him and screamed. She’d screamed a lot louder when he lost his grip in shock and ate concrete a couple floors below. He’d run off before she could call the cops. That hadn’t saved him from Aunt May, though. The lights had been on when he got back to their apartment, and he’d stood outside the chipped door, nursing a sprained wrist and split lip, trying to work up the courage to go inside. 

_But this isn’t your old apartment._ Peter chastised himself, his nails digging into his palms.

With May, there had always been just as much worry as anger. There’d been hot tea as she begged him to explain all the bloody knuckles and black eyes. Trying to talk about Uncle Ben. Falling asleep on the couch after, huddled together in the middle of scattered first-aid supplies and crumpled tissues.

That wasn’t what was going to happen here. There would still be a lecture, and probably a punishment, but it wasn’t Aunt May behind that door. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. Director Fury had nothing on his Aunt May. He’d survive. 

The door swung open easily, and his eyes swept across the bare office, pausing on the empty desk. The barest hint of movement pulled his gaze over to the wall of windows. Fury stood with his back to him, the stern lines of his shoulders seemed even more pronounced in the soft light. 

“Mr. Parker, you’re fired.” 

Peter’s hand clenched around the door handle, his heart dropping to his stomach. 

“Was I getting paid?” He said dumbly.

The corner of Fury’s mouth twitched, bringing his heart rate down just a notch. That was good, right? Fury wouldn’t be laughing at him if he was really getting kicked to the curb. Feeling a little braver, he turned and caught the door before it could slam shut, closing it gently.

Fury didn’t say anything else as Peter came to his side, his face an impassive mask once more. Peter stood at attention like he’d been taught, but Fury made no move to speak, or even look at him. After a minute or two of this, Peter turned to look out the window as well. If Fury wasn’t going to immediately lecture him, he wasn’t going to complain.

The office grew brighter as the sun rose. The city shone pale gold as it reflected off the windows of a thousand skyscrapers far below. The graceful curve of Avengers Tower was visible even from here. Peter shifted a little, guilty at the reminder of why he’d been summoned to Fury’s office. 

It wasn’t often that he had time alone with Director Fury. For the most part, Fury treated him like any other agent. He was tough, demanding and blunt. Fury expected him to be just as capable as anyone else on the ship, and he couldn’t be more grateful for that. Fury counted on him, and he worked and trained harder than he ever had in his life to make sure he didn’t let him down.

It wasn’t often that he had the man’s undivided attention. His time was something hard earned, and if it weren’t for the circumstances he would relish this opportunity. He liked to think Fury enjoyed spending time with him as well. Maybe not anymore. Maybe Fury’s respect was something else he’d lost. Peter glanced at Fury out of the corner of his eye, but there was no warmth in his serious expression.

Peter turned his head, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. If Fury noticed, he didn’t show it. Suddenly grateful for the silence, Peter took a few measured breaths and forced his shoulders to relax.

“At ease, Spider-Man.” Fury said finally, his gaze never leaving the view.

Peter immediately slouched a little, grateful that he didn’t have to keep up the rigid position anymore. 

“I spoke to Stark last night.” 

“You did?” Peter asked hoarsely. 

He hadn’t considered that Fury might actually call Mr. Stark about him. Or had Mr. Stark called Fury? Either way, his stomach squirmed with embarrassment. How much force would be necessary to throw himself out the window? It was probably bulletproof, but he might be able to do it.

“What did you think of him?” Fury asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Peter blinked. “Mr. Stark?”

Fury just nodded, face inscrutable.

Peter ducked his head. Yesterday had easily been the best day of his life. He’d had the chance to meet and work with two of his heros. He knew he’d broken just about every rule Fury had for him to do it, but he didn’t regret it.

“He was amazing,” Peter said honestly.

Fury finally looked away from the window, and Peter immediately turned to look up at him. He seemed expectant, not angry. 

“He’s not at all like he is on tv. He wanted to know how I made my web shooters, and showed me how to make them better. And his lab? Oh man, it was so cool, you would not believe some of the stuff he has in there!” 

He knew he was gushing, but he couldn’t help the bubble of excitement in his chest that refused to go away any time he thought about yesterday. It had been like a dream. Too bad Mr. Stark probably hated him now. The guy had offered him the chance to spend the night in Avengers Tower, an invitation he’d never imagined in his wildest dreams, and he’d literally jumped out the window.

“He’d be glad to know he made such a good impression,” Fury said drily, echoing his thoughts. “Especially after that vanishing act you pulled.” 

Peter flushed at the reminder. He wasn’t sure why Mr. Stark had been so against him coming back. It had been late, sure, but he’d stayed out way longer than that on patrols. When Mr. Stark insisted that he stay the night, he’d panicked. He didn’t want to be the cause of another fight between him and Fury. 

“Was he mad?” Peter asked, afraid of the answer. Fury shook his head, and moved to sit behind the sweeping desk. 

“He made it clear that SHIELD is not the best place for someone of your ability.” Peter made to follow, but Fury’s next words froze him in place. “In fact, he thinks you would make a fine addition to his team.” 

Peter felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Mr. Stark wanted him to be on his team? As in, the Avengers? The Team™ team? 

Peter waited for Fury to laugh. To tell him that he’d been joking. Something. But he didn’t. Fury just settled into his chair, looking way too calm for someone who had just knocked him into some weird, alternate dimension. 

“I think I need to sit down.” Peter collapsed into the nearest chair, legs sprawling. 

Iron Man, one of his childhood idols and favorite superheros, said he wanted Peter to join the Avengers? After wasting an afternoon looking at his homemade web shooters and followed by him jumping out the window? How was that even possible?

Belatedly, he realized that Fury was talking. 

“-to say I’m inclined to agree. There’s only so much we can do to train a bug-themed vigilante around here.”

“Arachnid,” Peter corrected, dazed. Fury shot him an unimpressed look, and that helped snap him out of it a little. “Sorry.”

Fury pressed the tips of his fingers together and leaned back in his chair, his dark eye narrowed in thought. “To be clear, joining the Avengers was always the endgame for you, Mr. Parker.” 

Peter sat up straighter, shocked. Was that really true? Was that why Fury had approached him all those months ago?

“I intended to train you with SHIELD until you were 18, but it seems Iron Man thinks you’re ready now.” Fury continued, his mouth grim. “Should you accept, you will no longer report to me. You will be under Stark's supervision, though you will answer to all of the Avengers for training.”

Under Mr. Stark’s supervision? If he wasn’t under Fury anymore, did that mean he’d get to stay at the tower like the other Avengers? What kind of training were they talking about? Would the Avengers really have time to teach him? If they did, would they even want to? Would they be his handlers, instead of Director Fury?

“What about you?” Peter asked, managing to latch onto one of the many questions swirling in his head. Fury’s eyebrow raised in surprise.

“What about me, Mr. Parker?”

“I mean,” Peter fumbled, trying to articulate around the sudden tightness in his throat. He wasn’t sure why this question was the one he’d managed to articulate. “Do you think I should? You’ve done so much for me. I can’t just. . .”

Fury seemed to understand, and his expression was the gentlest Peter had ever seen it. 

“On behalf of SHIELD, I thank you for your service. However, I think it’s for the best that you take Stark’s offer. Especially considering you no longer have a position here.”

“What?” 

Fury’s eye glinted, and Peter was abruptly reminded who he was talking to.

“If you care to recall, Mr. Parker, you’re fired. You broke no less than seven protocols with your little joyride with Stark yesterday, so consider yourself released from service. I can only hope training with the Avengers will knock some sense into you.”

Peter blinked. Then, he couldn’t help it. He laughed. 

“I wouldn’t hold your breath, Sir,” Peter gasped out, running his hands through his hair to try and calm down. Fury looked towards the ceiling, an action he seemed to do a lot around Peter.

“Get out of my office, Spider-Man.”

“Oh, right.” He jumped up and darted for the door. Halfway out, he hesitated and looked back. Fury was watching him with a look of begrudging amusement.

“Thank you, Director Fury.”

  
  


  
“Pepper, I’m sorry, I need this afternoon clear.” 

Tony winced at the exasperated response and shifted the phone against his ear. “No! Pepper, listen. Something came up and I need to be free to handle it.”

He sighed and looked around the dimly lit parking garage as Pepper continued to chew him out. After last night’s fiasco, he hadn’t been expecting to get another call from Director Fury this morning, let alone be told that Peter had agreed to come stay at the tower. The kid was giving him seriously mixed signals. Hopefully once he actually got the kid he would stop giving him whiplash.

“Pepper,” Tony interrupted. “I’m sorry, but it’s about the Avengers. Fury’s found someone he wants to add to the dream team. Happy’s picking him up right now.”

There was silence on the line for a few moments, and Tony felt a tinge of relief. Pepper knew he wouldn’t lie about something like this, and he was honestly exhausted. The last few hours had been hectic. It’d been a race to clean out the guest room in his suite enough to be habitable. It hadn’t been used for anything but tossing abandoned projects into since the tower had been built. Another question from Pepper pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Yes, I already know who it is,” Tony assured her. “I don’t want to tell you over the phone, but I’ll introduce you the next time you’re in New York.”

He glanced up as a familiar car pulled into the underground lot, barely paying attention as Pepper spoke again, clearly curious. “No, you shouldn’t see him on any missions anytime soon. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Tony walked towards the car as it pulled neatly into a parking space. “Pep, I gotta go. I’ll call you later, all right?” He hung up as the Happy exited the car, looking annoyed.

“How was the drive?” Tony asked, bemused. He chuckled at the exasperated look Happy gave him, but focused his attention on the teenager that was bouncing out of the car on the other side. Peter froze when he saw him, his yellow backpack hanging precariously off his shoulder.

“Um, hey Mr. Stark.” Peter said awkwardly, his face turning pink. Happy rolled his eyes and popped open the trunk, the swinging door cutting Peter off before he could say anything else.

“Hey, kid.” Tony said easily. 

Happy pulled a black duffel from the trunk and tossed it at Peter as he made his way around the car. He caught it easily, and slung the strap around his neck.

“Um, thanks for coming to get me, Mr. Hogan.” Peter said, looking grateful for the distraction. Happy just grunted and turned to pull a familiar case from the trunk.

“Don’t get used to it, kid. This isn’t my job.” He pushed the case into Peter’s hands and shut the trunk with a snap.

Tony chuckled at the bemused look on Peter’s face.

“Don’t mind Happy,” Tony said, knowing it would annoy him. He gestured at the silver case in Peter’s hands. “Is that your suit?”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir. It’s all here. Thanks again for making it for me, Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony, kid. Mind if I take that?” 

Peter jolted forward, handing it over. Tony took it without comment, and turned to Happy.

“You can take the rest of the kid’s stuff up to the suite. We’re making a quick stop first.”

Happy abruptly looked uncomfortable, and shrugged slightly when Tony raised an eyebrow at him. Before he could ask, Peter spoke up with forced cheerfulness.

“This is it, Mr. Stark.” 

There was a pause as Tony stared, grateful for the sunglasses masking his eyes. Peter glanced at Happy, maybe hoping for backup, his large eyes anxious despite the forced smile on his face.

Before it could get awkward, Tony turned and started walking to the elevator, mentally calculating how much stuff could fit in a single duffle and backpack. It wasn’t much, which meant Jarvis had some shopping to do. Peter scrambled to follow, and slid into the elevator after him, careful to not let his duffle bag bump into anything.

The door slid shut and the elevator started up unprompted. JARVIS already knew where to take them. Peter shuffled his feet, and didn’t say anything.

“Hey, kid?” Tony said abruptly. Peter’s hands were clenching the strap of his bag so hard his knuckles were turning white. That needed to stop. “Next time you don’t like a guest room, consider leaving a bad Yelp review.”

Peter glanced up at him, looking torn. Like he wanted to laugh, but wasn’t sure if he could. Then, he cocked his head, a tiny smile twisting his lips. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark. There was a really big spider in the bathroom, and I needed to get it out before it caused problems.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at the teasing gleam in his eye. Sassy. Maybe the kid had a quick tongue even out of his spider uniform. Peter seemed to realize what he’d said and ducked his head. He was blushing, if the pink tips of his ears were anything to go by.

“I really am sorry about leaving like that, Mr. Stark,” Peter said to his feet. "I just didn’t want you to get in trouble with Director Fury.”

Tony chewed on that for a second, and glanced at the elevator display. He wasn’t happy, but they’d have to hash it out later. 

“JARVIS, who’s in the common area right now?” Tony said, addressing the elevator.

Peter looked towards the ceiling with barely masked delight as JARVIS responded. 

“Ms. Romanoff, Doctor Banner, and Mr. Barton are currently in the common area.”

“Alright kid, look alive.” Tony said briskly, the elevator door sliding open.

“Wait, what?”

Tony suppressed a smile at the panicked response and stepped out of the elevator. Bruce glanced up from his spot at the kitchen table, but then his gaze slid to the side and his face brightened.

“Peter, good to see you again,” he said, smiling crookedly. 

“Thanks, Dr. Banner.” 

“Just Bruce, remember?”

“Right, thanks Bruce.”

Tony glanced around the room. Romanoff was sitting on the couch, twisting to look at them with slightly narrowed eyes. Tony met her gaze and raised his eyebrows at her scrutiny, but she made no move to get up. Instead she looked down and signed something. A moment later, Clint’s head popped up next to hers, looking over with interest. Despite JARVIS’ warning, Tony was a little surprised to see Clint. He rarely made use of his rooms.

“Who’s the kid?” Clint asked. Peter turned at the question, and his eyes widened slightly.

“Ms. Natasha!”

“Natasha?” Tony repeated incredulously. Was everyone he knew on a first name basis with SHIELD agents? First Pepper, and now this? “Her first name is Agent.”

Peter ignored him in favor of dumping his bag on the floor and making his way across the room. That was another thing he had in common with Pepper, apparently.  
  
“Hey, маленький паук,” Romanoff said warmly, shaking Peter’s outstretched hand. Clint glanced at her, then looked at Peter with new interest.

“You’re the Spider-kid?” Clint said, surprised. Tony scowled, but felt a little better. Apparently he wasn’t the only one Romanoff was keeping things from. Though, that might explain why Clint had decided today was a good day to grace them all with his presence.

“Spider-Man,” Peter corrected. Clint’s lips twitched, but he held up a hand in surrender. “Director Fury reassigned me, so I’m going to train with you guys now.”

“It’s about time. I’ve been telling Fury to hand you over for months,” Romanoff said as Peter shook Clint’s hand and exchanged introductions. Peter smiled at her, looking surprised but pleased.

“I’m sorry,” Tony interrupted, “How do you two know each other?”

Romanoff smirked at him from behind Peter’s back as he turned, his brown eyes bright.

“I met Ms. Natasha a few months ago. I was out patrolling, and she just appeared out of nowhere. I didn’t know who she was, so I tried to web her off the building.”

“And how did that go?” Bruce asked, amused. 

Peter grimaced. “Not great.”

“How old are you, Peter?” Clint asked.

Tony watched as Peter’s shoulder’s tensed. He understood why the kid was prickly about his age, but the last thing he needed was for Peter to feel like he needed to prove himself. He’d had hours to plan out what he was going to do with Peter now that he was under his supervision, and that would not help.

“Almost fifteen,” Tony said lightly, before Peter could. Bending down, he scooped up the abandoned bag and slung it on his shoulder. It was even lighter than he thought, which was just depressing.

“Let’s ditch your stuff, kid. You’ll get the rest of the tour after lunch.”

Peter walked over to join him, brows furrowing as he held out his hand. “I can take that, Mr. Stark. You don’t have to carry it for me.”

Tony just shrugged and put a hand on Peter’s back, shepherding him back to the elevator. He glanced back before the door slid shut behind them in time to see Bruce and Clint shoot each other a look.

“To the penthouse, sir?” JARVIS asked politely. He felt Peter twitch under his hand, but he didn’t remove it.

“You got it, J.”

“The penthouse?” Peter asked, “Not the guest floor?”

“After the little stunt you pulled last night?” Tony said pointedly, making Peter flush again. “Nah, you’re going to stay where I can keep an eye on you. Digs are better anyways.”

  
Peter crouched comfortably on the railing, the metal cool beneath his bare feet. He had always wanted to see the city from the top of Avengers tower, and it was just as awesome as he’d imagined. It was one of the tallest buildings in the area. Tall enough that the cars and hum of the lit up city sounded far away even to him.

He was alone on the balcony, but behind the closed doors, he could hear Natasha talking to Mr. Stark in low tones. He didn't want to eavesdrop, so he focused on the sounds of the streets below. It was a dizzying drop, but Peter could already feel a couple different places he could swing from, his spider-sense picking them out even in the dark.

This had been one of the most exhausting days of his life. He’d had to pack all his stuff in record time to catch the daily transport to the city, and even getting to the Tower had been an adventure. He hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting for him at the SHIELD base, let alone Tony Stark’s head of security, but Mr. Hogan had been there. He was not a cheerful guy, but Peter was grateful he hadn’t had to take the subway. 

Seeing Mr. Stark again had been embarrassing, but the man hadn’t made a big deal of what happened the night before. It had been a little surreal when he’d gone to the common floor with Mr. Stark and suddenly been in the same room with over half of the Avengers. Thor hadn’t been there, obviously, and he was a little bummed he hadn’t seen Captain America yet. Rumor had it that Captain Rogers lived at the tower as well, but maybe they were wrong. Mr. Stark hadn’t said anything about it, and Peter hadn’t wanted to ask.

It had only taken a minute to dump his bag in his new room. It was probably stupid, but the sight of an actual bed and desk had actually made him a little speechless. He’d been sleeping in a cramped bunk on the SHIELD carrier for months now, so the size of the room had been overwhelming. 

Mr. Stark had ordered some hamburgers for them, and they ate in the pristine kitchen. Peter couldn’t help but wonder if it was cleaned every day, or if it just wasn’t used enough to get dirty. He’d been afraid to really touch anything, but he had laughed at the look of disgust on Mr. Stark’s face when he dipped his fries in his shake.

The rest of the day had been devoted to exploring the tower. He hadn’t expected Mr. Stark to stay with him the whole time, but he had. The hours went by quickly, and he was sure he hadn’t seen even half of what the tower held by the time Mr. Stark called it a night.

Behind him, the door to the penthouse slid open.

“Peter?” 

Peter turned and shot a smile at Mr. Stark as he stepped onto the balcony. He was alone, and the penthouse was empty behind him. Natasha must have gone back downstairs. 

Mr. Stark froze when he saw him. “Kid, what are you doing?”

Peter cocked his head slightly. Why was Mr. Stark looking at him like that? 

“Well, you know, just getting my ‘brooding over the city’ time in. It’s part of the vigilante gig.”

Mr. Stark moved towards him, his steps strangely cautious. He cleared his throat, and gestured to the ground. “Very funny. Think you could do your brooding on the right side of the railing?”

Peter’s eyebrows flew up, and he choked down a laugh. That’s what Mr. Stark was worried about? Deciding to test his theory, he stood up from his crouch, the balls of his feet sticking effortlessly to the guard rail. Sure enough, Mr. Stark flinched forward at the movement, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“Mr. Stark, I’m not going to fall,” Peter teased over his shoulder, rocking up on his toes. 

“Humor me,” Mr. Stark said flatly. Peter briefly considered doing a handstand on the railing just to mess with him, but the look on Mr. Stark’s face convinced him that would be a bad idea. To compromise, he backflipped off, easily sticking the landing.

Muttering in what sounded like Italian, Mr. Stark grabbed his shoulder and steered him inside. “You’re going to be the death of me, kid.”

Pleased, Peter grinned up at him as they reentered the penthouse. It was a lot more fun to mess with Mr. Stark than any of the SHIELD agents he’d worked with. They were all used to him. Though, that did remind him.

“Hey, Mr. Stark? If you’re not working on my suit, I should go out on patrol. That balcony is the perfect place to jump off from.”

For the briefest second, Mr. Stark’s hand tightened around his shoulder, almost enough to be painful. Then, it was gone.

“I’m going to stop you right there. No one will be jumping off of anything. New rule. In fact, you just lost balcony privileges for the week.”

“What?” Peter complained. “Why? You can’t do that!”

Mr. Stark strode away towards the kitchen, waving his hand vaguely. “Sure I can. You hear that, JARVIS? Lock it up.”

Sure enough, Peter caught the sound of the locks clicking into place. He frowned as he followed Mr. Stark to the kitchen. He hopped up onto one of the stools, watching as Mr. Stark pulled out a pitcher of water and two glasses from the fridge.

“How am I supposed to go on patrol if I can’t jump off the building?” It wasn’t like that would really stop him, but it was a little funny to see Mr. Stark freak out over something he did on a daily basis.

“You won’t.” Mr. Stark said plainly, setting a glass in front of him. Peter frowned, and didn’t move to take it.

“What do you mean?”

“Ms. Romanoff has set up a pretty extensive training program for you, starting tomorrow. Until she’s convinced that you can handle yourself out there, you won’t be going out.”

“I can’t just not go out!” Was he being serious? 

Mr. Stark put down his glass with more force than was strictly necessary, his dark eyes flashing. “Yes, you can.” 

For the first time, there was a touch of anger in Mr. Stark’s voice. “One of the conditions of you being here is that you listen to what we tell you. If training with Romanoff until she says you’re ready is what it takes, then that’s it.”

Peter felt himself shrink at the rebuke. Cowed, he took a sip of the water, trying to hide the burning in his cheeks. When Mr. Stark didn’t let up on his gaze, Peter realized he was waiting for a response.

“Yes, sir.” He muttered, trying not to look like he was sulking. 

Mr. Stark flinched, but Peter was too wrapped up in his own frustration to question it. The kitchen fell silent, and Mr. Stark made no move to drink his water. When Peter snuck a glance at him, his gaze was distant.

A training period made sense, if he thought about it. He’d had one when he’d first joined SHIELD. Though that had been more for his recovery than anything else. Once he’d gotten back on his feet he’d been sent out on patrols almost immediately. He’d even helped with some of the Avenger’s missions! He wasn’t totally useless. All he had to do was show them he could handle himself and it would be over in no time.

“I’ll need some time to completely rework your suit, anyways,” Mr. Stark said abruptly, meeting his eye once more. “We’ll toss out that black one. Your original look wasn’t bad. I think we could make the red and blue work.”

It sounded like an apology, and Peter smiled a little. He could handle training. It’s not like it could last very long, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW has it been nearly three months since I last updated???
> 
> I'm really sorry for the wait, guys. The middle section of this chapter was really tricky to nail down for some reason, but I hope you like it!
> 
> Shout out to the people who were sending me reviews throughout those three months. I'm not sure how deep into ao3 you had to dive to get to this story, but your enthusiastic comments always gave me a boost of inspiration.
> 
> Also, I tweaked some of the earlier chapters, so I'd recommend going back if you haven't recently.
> 
> Up Next: Peter starts training with the Black Widow, and realizes it's not going to be as easy as he thinks.


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